


cold night, warm tent

by TheAmethystRiddle



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:19:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAmethystRiddle/pseuds/TheAmethystRiddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yeah, I think we all knew blanket fort fluff was going to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cold night, warm tent

“It’s cold.”

She’d definitely expected this to go the other way. He would wander into her room, feet bare and toes wiggling on the hardwood floor. He’d look pathetic, frowning and wrapped in one of his fleece blankets. She’d protest and then, when he continued to pout, move over to allow him to curl up next to her. She refused to believe that she may have given the scenario more thought than was necessary.

He looked rather bemused as he poked his head out from under the tent. She could tell she’d woken him, and the thought gave her a little burst of glee. See how he liked it, the bastard.

“I don’t understand,” he said, scrunching up one half of his face and cocking his head to one side. Didn't understand, her ass. But she’d be fooling herself to think that he’d be anything other than childish about this.

“I want in,” she replied, and she kicked at the blankets. She could feel even from the brief contact that they were deliciously warm.

“Sorry, in where?” His stupid mouth was agape, his eyes wide in a thoroughly pathetic attempt to look dumb. She frowned intensely. She was too damn tired for this.

“In with the hot rocks, dumbass.” He frowned back at her as if he was deliberating. After a moment he sighed melodramatically.

“I suppose it would be rude to do otherwise. Come in, Watson.” He ducked back under the sheets and she followed him with a quick huff, trying to dispel the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Probably she was just hungry.

The bed was surprisingly spacious, and she lost no time in burrowing under the ample covers. She decided not to mention the extra pillow that had already been laid out as if for a second person.

When she had gotten comfortable she rolled over to see Sherlock perched awkwardly at the head of the makeshift bed, watching her with a peculiar expression on his face.

“If you’re planning on sitting there and watching me sleep, I’m just going to go ahead and leave.” He shifted anxiously at her words and then crawled under the covers with her, his movements clumsy as ever. He kicked her accidentally and she kicked back, triggering a brief but vicious war in which they whaled on each other and yanked the comforter back and forth, forgetting for a moment the impropriety of rolling around on top of each other.

When they settled, both a bit red in the face, they did so in opposite corners of the tent. Sherlock punched at his pillow briefly and then they lapsed into silence. Though they were each convinced they wouldn't be able to fall asleep, within the half hour they were out like a twin pair of lights.

Later that night Sherlock threw an arm over her with a sleepy grunt and she half-woke, shook her head with a groggy smile, and shifted closer toward him.

After all, it really was very cold.


End file.
